


It's Such A Shame That We Play Strangers

by thunderstormsablaze



Series: Something Wicked This Way Comes [2]
Category: All Elite Wrestling
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Slow Burn (ish), Song fic, lots of pining, they are both very dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:36:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29679906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderstormsablaze/pseuds/thunderstormsablaze
Summary: Things can only go uphill from here. Right?
Relationships: Dean Ambrose | Jon Moxley/Eddie Kingston
Series: Something Wicked This Way Comes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2178633
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	It's Such A Shame That We Play Strangers

**Author's Note:**

> This one's written to "Oh, Calamity!" by All Time Low.   
> Also thanks to the people who wanted a sequel because you made me write this.

_ When I was younger I was certain  
_ _ That I'd be fine without a queen _

Blue eyes immediately looks away, his heart stopping in his chest. He's not ready to face his first love, not ready to tackle those demons. There's a reason he had them locked away; he can't afford to open them again. He has to get away, as far from the ginger as possible, and keep it that way. Because he swears this time he won't fall in love with ginger, not again. He played with fire and got burnt once, he can't be burnt again. His heart can't take it, he's barely holding it together as it is. 

He didn't think it would hurt that much to see ginger there, that all the emotions he once had were tucked away. Maybe it's when his heart longed for the companionship of love when it closed itself off, able to trick everyone into thinking it was okay. But it doesn't work now. It really stings, seeing how good ginger looked, how untouched by the years apart he was. Because blue eyes has a plethora of scars to show for the years, some physical, some emotional. The pain of always being left behind for bigger dreams taking its toll. 

That's why he has to be extra careful this time, not entrust his heart and make stupid mistakes. It was stupid mistakes that got him into this mess of emotions, stupid mistakes that made him fall in love in the first place. Does he regret those long nights of love? Sometimes. Some days he can accept the memories, be glad he had them even if they're long gone- others he wishes he never felt what love truly was so he didn't know what he was missing. 

_ Just a king inside his castle  
_ _ With an ocean in between _

The ginger turns away, stomach churning as he sees those blue eyes that haunted his dreams for so long. Reminding him that it wasn't worth it to chase his dreams, not if it meant leaving behind lazy kisses and pure love. He likes to live his life without regrets to weigh him down, but blue eyes always broke all his rules, never one to follow with what ginger wanted. If the ginger could change anything, it would be something with the love of his life.

It varies from day to day what that change would be, some days it's never leaving for the big lights, to be content with companionship and pure unadulterated joy. Other days it's never falling in love in the first place, that he should have held his heart closer to his chest, then he could have protected them both from an inevitable crash and burn. They were like matches and gasoline, perfect together but oh so destructive. 

This time it'll be different. This time he won't break the love of his life's heart, he refuses to make that mistake again. If it means hurting himself more by staying away, he'll do just that, he owes blue eyes that much. It means he won't be able to hear that wicked laugh or see that mischievous grin directed at him ever again, and that's a pain worse than any tortue. Perhaps it's repentance for hurting him in the first place. But he's older now, more experienced, he won't hurt blue eyes anymore, he doesn't deserve it. 

_ Now all I do is sit  
_ _ And count the miles from you to me  
_ _ Oh, calamity _

They avoid each other like the plague, stuck in their own heads, rebuilding shattered walls from the morning. Blue eyes drawing everything close, wearing his viciousness as a shield, keeping everyone away. The ginger quiet, all energy directed internally. He steals a glimpse at the blue eyed man from across the lunch room, a spark of pain shooting through his heart as he recognizes the defensiveness. How he's pushing everyone away so no one can get close enough to hurt him like he did. 

He won't look, blue eyes repeats, he can't. Not while his defenses are so raw, while he's so exposed to the man who knew him so well. He's self aware enough to know most of his tactics haven't changed, they weren't broke so he didn't fix them. All that coming back to bite him in the ass as he realizes he's an open book for the ginger, free to flip through and read as he wishes. So blue eyes pulls out some old tricks, hoping they'll keep the prying eyes at bay enough for him to construct better walls.

Both stealing glances at the other when they aren't looking, they stew in memories of old no matter how much they try to push them away. Daydreaming of how they wish things turned out differently, how they could have been next to each other like all those years ago. Leaning against each other, talking quietly or not needing words at all, stealing each other's food and laughing as they fell further and further in love. But those days are long past, and they both shake themselves out of their stupor, not wanting to let the memories win. 

_ We get older by the hour  
_ _ Watch the changes from afar _

Blue eyes didn't mean to go there, he promises. But he couldn't fight his instincts, not these instincts telling him to seek out somewhere safe. He's relied on his instincts for so long after getting his heart torn out, the only things keeping him alive, but maybe they were flawed. Or maybe it's how magnetic they are together, he doesn't know. Either way, he ends up near the ring, watching his old lover practice a match. Hiding out of sight from him, not wanting to let him know he's there.

It's so reminiscent of all those years ago, waiting on the sidelines for him to wrestle, watching him thrive and do what he does best. Yet so different at the same time. Back then he was wild, brawling and screaming and only respondent to himself, that was the only opinion that mattered. But now… he's changed. Blue eyes doesn't recognize half the moves in there; they look so wrong when done by ginger. He's softer now, more focused on art than fighting rough and hard. He doesn't know when the ginger changed so much, only that he did, another person standing there, not his ginger of years past.

_ Keep forgetting to remember  
_ _ Where we've been is who we are _

Hours later they find their positions reversed, though neither know that. Blue eyes now in the ring, working out a match and practicing in a new ring. So he can get the feel of it, the ropes, how the mat bounces under his feet. This one's softer than most others he's worked in, it's strange. The rough and harsh is in his blood, the comfort never something he's had, something foreign he needs to get used to, though he doesn't know if he can. 

The ginger watches him from a distance, instantly taken back to seedy dive bars with sketchy rings and performers. It's like nostalgia, he hasn't seen his old lover work since he left to chase the big lights, but it's so familiar. No matter how much changed in that long time, these moves, the way he acts in the ring haven't. The ginger tears up a little, instantly forcing them back down, for it takes him back to an easier time, one where their hearts weren't broken. He wonders how much the big lights changed him, who he would be if he never left. But he can't linger on that for long, he has to keep looking forward to the next big thing. 

_ Now all I do is wonder  
_ _ Why we ever set the scene  
_ _ Oh, calamity _

Blue eyes wanders through the halls, a cigarette hanging from his lips. There's nowhere he fits in there, not with the ones changed from the bright lights, not with the old guard, not with the new and hungry. He's alone in a world of people. Nothing fits, nowhere feels right. Maybe this was a mistake, chasing the big stage, he should have stayed where he was comfortable. 

And the bad memories wouldn't have surfaced, the aching longing showing up yet again. He doesn't know how much more of it he can take, the scars not as faded as he thought they were. Maybe he should just go to the office and tell the executives he can't be here anymore. But he can't just quit, he's never quit before and he won't quit now, no matter how much torture it puts him through.

The ginger walks, not sure of where he's going or where he's been. But his feet take him around the building, conscious barely aware of where he is. Lost in thought, allowing himself one last venture into the memories before they get sealed away for good. His soul longing for its other half, he fights back tears again. Touches years old resurface, the ghost of hands against his skin, tracing over all of his old scars. 

He doesn't know how many of those he still has or how many were added since then. He wants nothing more than to find out thanks to blue eyes, he knows the other man would lecture him about putting himself in danger, but he can't have him anymore. And he has no one to blame but himself for that, no one forced him to leave, no one forced him to break up with him, it was all his doing. 

_ It's such a shame that we play strangers  
_ _ No act to change what we've become _

Blue eyes gets startled out of his memories by the feeling of another body, wincing and looking up at who it was. Instantly his features harden, walls drawn up around him while his heart pleads for them to fall. But he trusted his heart once and it broke him, he won't listen to it again. Not when the man who tore him apart all those years ago stumbles into him. Even that small bit of contact through both their jackets stings, yet it's so familiar, all he can do to pull back instead of push against it. Quickly, he puts his head down and practically runs away.

It's kind of his fault, as it always is with blue eyes, the ginger not looking where he was going. He doesn't know how they ran into each other, the halls of the building vast with plenty of space for everyone to have their own areas without overlap. Perhaps he was seeking out blue eyes, maybe it was the other way around. But it hurt to see how quick he pulled up his walls, and how out of tune he is with him. Because for all his trying, the ginger couldn't get a read on his former lover even before the defenses went up. 

_ Damn, it's such a shame that we've built a wreck out of me  
_ _ Oh, calamity  
_ _ Oh, calamity _

The ginger desperately wishes it was different, that he never made the other man make his defenses so strong. That he could go back years ago, yell at his younger self to savor what he had and never let it go. Because he doesn't know if the big lights were worth it, not to lose how good he had it. No, they definitely weren't worth it. Even though he's reunited with blue eyes, it's not the same, and he doesn't know if it'll ever be the same. The heartbreak and pain and betrayal too much to set aside. 

Besides he doesn't know if blue eyes moved on, he must have in the years apart. The ginger doesn't blame him, in fact he almost wishes he did. Then he could tell himself that he was completely off limits, since even though he keeps telling himself he can't break his heart again he keeps getting drawn in like a moth to a flame. And because blue eyes deserves someone who could love him unconditionally, to keep him safe from the horrors of the world. 

_ I'll remember nights alone  
_ _ And waking up to dial tones _

Blue eyes wipes away tears, finding a quiet place to just sit and think. To get his emotions under control again, because he can't put himself through this again. He knows things will never be the same damnit, that they'll never be able to be together under the stars, nothing to worry about, content with just their love. If only he could reinforce that with his heart. His nature is to follow his head, not his heart, but the ginger always upset the natural balance of things. Making him think with his heart, doing unreasonable things but oh so wonderful things.

But he remembers the pain, the long nights alone, body screaming for his other half. He just barely learned to live without the missing part, and he can't go through learning to live without it again. No matter how easy it would be to slip into love once more - he never stopped loving the ginger after all, it just got hidden under layers and layers of pain - he can't give in. Not when love was so cruel to him, he can never go back to that. No matter how much he craves it's warmth again, the tenderness of quiet nights coexisting. He can't do it. He just can't. 

_ Always found my greatest moments  
_ _ In the sound of your hello's _

Late that night the ginger lays on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, almost a perfect mirror of the night he sent that fatal text. This time there are more scars, new ones on their bodies and in their hearts. The ginger still regrets it, he hates lingering on regrets but this one can't be gotten out of his head. He takes a long drink from a bottle, trying to quiet the voices in his head, berating him for abandoning his lover for something that wasn't all he dreamed it to be. 

He still remembers their last conversation, well, if it could have been counted as a conversation. It was more talking at each other, going through scripted pleasantries without any life behind them. If only he did more, worked harder to keep that happiness in his life. Back then he was young and naive, and he's going to pay for that forever. Since no matter how much he wants it, the man he loves doesn't deserve to get hurt anymore. 

_ Now I struggle to recall  
_ _ The reasons you would come to leave  
_ _ Oh, calamity _

Two months of avoidance, of awkward glances and keeping emotions under check, defenses securely in place. They put them up easier than breathing, but keeping them there is anything but. They do their best though, keeping the unwanted memories under check, holding themselves in place and not letting themselves remember the long nights of laughter and softness. Until their worlds get changed and they get called to a room, told they'll be having a match due to one having to be canceled.

It's their worst nightmare, having to actually touch each other, be in the ring together, work together. And they only have a few hours to prepare for it. The blue eyed man curses the world, why did it have to be them. Why couldn't it have been anyone else, he needs it to be anyone else. But the company needs them more than he needs to stay far away from the ginger. So he gives in and accepts.

The ginger hates it too, but he can't help but be excited. Finally, he gets a chance to actually talk to the blue eyed man, get him to look at him. Though he knows he doesn't deserve it, he wants it more than anything in the world. Maybe the match will help him win back a sliver of trust, he doubts it, there's more chance of the sky turning neon green, but he can't help but hope. After all without hope what else does he have. 

_ It's such a shame that we play strangers  
_ _ No act to change what we've become _

They sit across from one another at a table, truly seeing each other for the first time in long long years. The ginger watching how similar the other man is, still so rough, guarded, a glint of madness behind his blinding beautiful eyes. The blue eyed man staring at how different he is, now more soft, larger, the years aging him in ways he can't even begin to imagine. The tension thick enough to cut with a knife, neither sure where to start. Not knowing how to put aside their baggage and just plan a match.

Eventually ginger opens his mouth, voice uncharacteristically unstable and cracking, but he soldiers on anyway. Detailing a plan for the match, glancing at blue eyes every few moments to make sure he looks to be okay with it. Of course, the blue eyed man is extremely guarded still, but lets down his walls just enough to talk, to help plot out a good match. Because while he may not like it, the fans deserve something good, and it's his job to provide that. After some time they get out the bare minimum necessary and they go their separate ways, trying to prepare themselves for something there's no preparing for. 

_ Damn, it's such a shame that we've built a wreck out of me  
_ _ Oh, calamity  
_ _ Oh, calamity _

Honestly, the blue eyed man barely remembers the match, no clue what even happened he was so out of it. But he knew he needed something brutal and hard hitting. Though this was anything but. He needed a reminder that the ginger hurt him and the bruises to prove it. Needed something that hurt, that got his blood rushing, adrenaline pumping, a good brawl. Something to take him out of his head for a while and just live in the moment. Blue eyes doesn't always get what he needs though, fate proved that just earlier that day.

It's finally his time to get out all the pent up frustration, pour out all his hurt and anger and suffering, but he couldn't do it. Couldn't bring himself to bring pain to the ginger. He's angry at himself, consciously trying to get himself to swing faster and hit harder, but it still doesn't happen. He still loves him too much to really hurt him. Of course he makes it look good, he's wrestled so many times with intent to hurt he knows how to make it look like he's actually hurting him, but nothing to really leave bruises, he can't do it.

The ginger does his best, trying to wrestle like he knows the blue eyed man likes, tough and without restraint. But it's difficult, he doesn't want to hurt him. He already hurt him emotionally, he can't add physically to that. The strikes become weaker and weaker, staring out strong but that doesn't last. He does his best to turn it back into a strong fight, but it doesn't work. Both wanting the nostalgic feel of a true brawl, but neither willing to cause the other pain to make it happen.

They savor the feeling of skin on skin contact, even if it's only through a punch, a kick, it's way more than they've had in the past. Blue eyes tries to ignore the fire in his veins when they touch, unwilling to get himself sucked back into the inferno that is the ginger. The ginger letting his skin rest against the others for a moment longer than a normal match, drinking in the contact he's allowed. 

_ If I catch you on the corner  
_ _ Will you even know it's me? _

The bell rings and they both drop to the mat, the match finally over. They survived it, got through it even with the baggage hanging over their heads, making it so difficult to focus and make it work. But it did work, and they know it's good just from the reaction of the people around. They just lay there, staring up at the night sky. The stars looking down upon them, they can pretend like it's like old times. Like there aren't millions of miles separating them while they touch arms together. 

The ginger pushes himself up first, stealing another look at the other, longing deep within his soul making itself known. He stumbles away from the ring as fast as his battered body allows, lest he do something stupid like try to touch him. Press his lips to his cheek. He gave up rights to do that long ago, yet his body still wants it, still can't stop itself from doing it. He walks to the doctors room, knowing he's not hurt badly but that the doctor would want him checked out anyway. He takes his shirt off and hops up onto a table, watching the door.

Blue eyes stare up at the stars for a moment longer, not wanting to leave the fantasy yet, but a nagging pain in his elbow forces him to his feet in order to get it checked out. Slowly, he makes his way back to the doctor, opening the door to spot the ginger on the table. He feels a little bad, hurting the one he loved, but he shakes that off, sitting on a chair near the door. He tells himself he'll avoid looking at him, but that's a huge lie. 

The blue eyed man looks at all the scars decorating the gingers skin, knowing some of them, others foreign to his eyes and touch. He wishes he knew them, misses the lazy days in bed where they were too sore to move after matches, just touching each other. Content with relearning every curve, every bump, every injury. But it had been nine long years apart, and that added a plethora of marks to each of their bodies. Ones he wishes he could know, but knowing he'll never get the chance to.

_ Will I look familiar to you?  
_ _ Do you offer me a seat? _

They're allowed a week to rest, recover from their injuries and get themselves pulled back together, get their walls up before they're called back into the office again. The tension thick, though marginally better than before. Until they get notice the match they had against each other wasn't the last they're going to have; they have to have another one at Full Gear. 

It doesn't sound as foreboding this time, blue eyes knows what a match against ginger feels like now and he can handle it. He can push aside emotion long enough to get the job done, can get through this with minimal pain. The ginger sighs quietly and nods, a quick glance at the other before leaving the room. He doesn't know what to do, how they'll make it work when there's so much between them getting in the way of working together for any long stretch of time. But he supposes they'll figure it out, they have to. 

_ Can we find a new beginning?  
_ _ Do you turn the other cheek?  
_ _ Oh, calamity _

The ginger watches him from afar, trying to imagine being able to have a conversation with him again. Wishing it wouldn't be awkward, but knowing it definitely would be. They know each other intimately, yet have grown so much from who they were. But it doesn't change how much he misses having that closeness with someone, being able to talk so freely, have so much chemistry. To have his day light up just by coming home to someone. He longs for that, for his soul to feel complete again. At least he'll be able to touch his old love again, one more ride.

Feeling a stare, the blue eyed man turns and glances at who it is, instantly turning back away. He can't handle this, not yet. Not while he's still raw emotionally, still working on better defenses that the ginger can't peer through. He never changed them from all those years ago, never thinking he would need to. Clearly the ginger wasn't going back to the dark musty halls, and he was likely never to get a shot at the big leagues. It looks like he was wrong, and he's paying for it now. 

_ It's such a shame that we play strangers  
_ _ No act to change what we've become _

It's a lot easier than he thought it would be, cutting promos on ginger, he can draw on so much old knowledge and emotion, yet it's getting harder and harder to clamp down on after his promos. He knows others can see the tension between them, they're not exactly subtle about it, but they seem to be too intimidated to ask. Which is for the best, blue eyes doesn't want to have to bite someone's head off for prying too far into his personal life. He does his best to keep work away from his daily life, but he finds himself thinking of the ginger more. Wishing they were able to stay together, not become strangers once more.

It's the most the ginger's struggled with promos in a long time, even working with a script wasn't this infuriating. Luckily, most of his first few were taped and slotted in, then he could do multiple takes, get it perfect and up to normal standards before sending it. He hates it, it shouldn't be this hard to talk about a man he knew so well. But it is, the words just don't come. Stuck in his throat in a way they never were before, he can barely talk about that wicked attitude before faltering. The consequence of those years apart, the repression of the past few months. Hopefully he can get himself together enough for the in ring promos he thinks as he restarts the cameras to get another take.

_ Damn, it's such a shame that we play strangers  
_ _ No act to change what we've become _

Upon hearing it's an "I Quit" match the ginger curses silently, he knows how intense those can be and how harsh blue eyes wants it to be. One of the things he always hated when they were lovers, blue eyes death wish. Watching him get hurt is the one thing he never liked, and now he has to be the one inflicting pain yet again. He knows the other won't want to half ass the match, will want to feel its pain for days to come. Yet he doesn't know if he's mentally prepared to do that, not now, not ever. 

An evil tint in his eye, blue eyes smirks and cracks his knuckles. This sort of match is his specialty, what he's made for. Hopefully this time he can use it as therapy, do what he couldn't the first time. This time he might be able to make himself feel better, the pain of the memories constantly at the forefront of his mind and he needs a release. He needs the release of memories, needs to hurt, needs this therapy. 

_ Damn, it's such a shame that we've built a wreck out of me  
_ _ Oh, calamity  
_ _ Oh, calamity _

Finally, the match they were waiting for. One eagerly, the other with all the dread he could muster. But no matter what, it was happening. They circle each other in the ring, tension and excitement melding together into anticipation as they scout their opponent, trying to get into his head and mess with him or to predict what will happen next. Eventually the first move is made, and they're off. 

It's just as brutal as blue eyes wanted it to be, he'll be feeling the punches for days to come, and have a fair few new scars to decorate his skin, to wear as trophies. He loves it, it's everything he needed and more. In a way he's proud of the ginger, that he hasn't totally softened in his time under the bright lights, that he still had some of the scrappy and hungry ginger he knew long ago. Even as blue eyes is being tormented, screaming in pain, it brings a grin to his lips, the man he loved once is still in there. 

His walls down for a split second, he savors the feeling of their skin pressed together, of the ginger being himself again after the long years of being alone. He struggles to put them up again during the match in between spots, needing to not give into his emotions, not his instincts knocking on the door and begging to be let out. Because then he might do something as stupid as kiss him on live pay-per-view and that's the last thing he needs at the moment. To make another dumb mistake.

The ginger hurts, not only from the thumbtacks scattering around his back, not only from the rubbing alcohol burning deep in him. No, he hurts because he needs to torment the man he loved, loves, will always love. Because he needs to choke him out with barbed wire and make him quit. Because that ending goes against everything he knew blue eyes was as a man, he never quit. Until he's being forced to now. It feels wrong, dirty to make him say he quits. Especially after all he's done to him.

But he does it anyway, knowing that's how it had to end. He never expected him quitting to strike so deep in his soul. Back before they split blue eyes never gave up, sure he wasn't fighting for them but he wasn't the one to throw in the towel. That was all the ginger. And he regrets it everyday, but he was the one that quit. He's the one that should have quit, he doesn't deserve to make his old love give up. Because it feels even worse than breaking up with him, at least then he could lie to himself that it was for the best. Here, he's all alone and can't even convince himself that's true.

_ Oh, calamity  
_ _ Come back to me _

The bell rings, the match over. Ginger won, but he doesn't feel as though he can enjoy it, not with the way he won eating him up inside. So as a small act of repentance he helps blue eyes to his feet, ignoring the burning correctness of their skin touching, he doesn't have that right anymore. That was lost long ago. Blue eyes stumbles to his feet and leans on ginger, well, more like they both lean on each other. Needing that support to get them to the doctor backstage.

Both feeling so much for the other but unable to express it, out of fear of loving again, of not feeling good enough for the other. But all that restraint ran its course when they get to the doctor, having to wait a few moments for the door to open. Those moments feel like an eternity. Like it's them in their own world once more, nothing else matters. Not the stinging wounds, not the rush of people around them, not the years and years of baggage weighing against them, not their instincts screaming at them to part. 

Unable to help it, something happens. Neither knows who started it, but they just know it's right. It's oh so right, like coming home after an odyssey. Their lips connect and they grin. It's gentle, loving, even the underlying taste of blood and walls inside screaming to run far away can ruin the moment. They know they shouldn't fall in love again, that this can't end well and will only leave them more hurt in the end. But dammit they have to try. And after all those years, they finally feel home. 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, there were many people around. Yes, they wolf-whistled like crazy. They were flipped off.


End file.
